Between the Lines
by Yugicanbesexy
Summary: Moriarty takes over Britain to play a sadistic game on Sherlock. Alone and facing his toughest challenge Sherlock is forced to think beyond his boundaries. Elsewhere John and a elite force of women, all from OC from fanfics, have to make him believe again
1. ExpositionPrologue

Between The Lines

ONLY READ THIS IF YOU HAVE NOT READ OR NEED TO BE REMINDED OF MY LAST TWO SHERLOCK FAN FICS: Question Mark:? And Exclamation Mark:! THIS IS NOT ENTIRERLY IMPORTANT SO DON'T WORRY YOU CAN SKIP THIS!

**YOU DON'T NEED TO READ THIS OR MY OTHER FANFICS TO GET THE BASIC PLOT LINE!**

Question Mark:?

Sherlock Holmes meets a blind senior university student with the name of Suzanne, John and Sarah trick Sherlock into having a meal with Suzanne as a form of double dating. Just as the situation turns awkward a murder is committed close by making John and Sherlock investigate.

Suzanne tags along and soon they come across the victim who is female and one of many woman murders that had occurred, who have been committed by a London gang (the Black gang) in the heart of London trying to kill Sherlock.

It is revealed that Suzanne is known in the gang and was a former member, but the only family she has now is her step sister named Sophie who shows the trio where the next gang meeting.

All this time Sherlock and Suzanne are getting closer.

They go to the meeting (which is held at an opera) and they learn about the gang's plans. Number one (or the gang leader) is not revealed but John, Sherlock and Suzanne learn he wishes to kill them both. When they try to escape the meeting they find they are surrounded in the building. They try to hide while John looks for an exit. Sherlock and Suzanne talk and find they have a lot in common despite their obvious differences.

John calls Sherlock revealing he has been gaged and held in a prop room. Sherlock goes to the same place but he gets captured also. Sherlock calls Suzanne and she arrives to rescue them. Other members appear and try to kill all three, until the police Suzanne calls arrives. Bringing both Suzanne and Sherlock closer.

Sherlock and Suzanne ponder on what to do next. Suzanne reveals that she had taped the voices which make Sherlock lose himself and kiss her making his feelings known. He soon regrets it though and leaves Suzanne on her own in 221B Baker Street.

While she is alone Suzanne is kidnapped and held hostage by the Black gang. Sherlock is notified and goes to the tall building where she is held.

At the climax of the story, it is revealed that Suzanne's blood brother Wayne Miles (the chief of police) is the gang leader number one, Suzanne is second in command. Suzanne Miles runs away devastated by what she has done to Sherlock. She is soon arrested and tried by Lestrade and John.

A ransom is held for Sherlock who had been captured by the black gang. They soon realise that they cannot hope to get Sherlock back without Suzanne's help. She makes a scheme around them breaking in and getting Sherlock back with her going inside to get him.

She eventually finds Sherlock and explains the Black Gang wanted Sherlock dead because they wanted to take out London with Sherlock being the only thing in Wayne's way. Sherlock forgives Suzanne instantly and kisses her. Suzanne reveals that she does love Sherlock despite her loyalties to the gang and her brother, she knows though she and Sherlock can never be together from their different upbringings and situations.

They try to run to a safe spot in a cupboard but are still surrounded. Suzanne makes it clear to the police below they are going to try to jump. Just as the gang members breaks in Sherlock jumps out of the window to the police below waiting for him. Before Suzanne can jump she is held by her brother who shoots her. She falls out of the window and dies in Sherlock's eyes.

Sherlock takes it badly inferring more that he did love Suzanne Miles.

In the epilogue through sheer luck and through the fact she had been shot more times than hot dinners Suzanne survived her brush with death, but she is badly shaken and is reminded of her situation next to Sherlock's. She leaves England for France until the hysteria about the Black gang and her brother's arrest goes down. She tells Sophie her step sister to deliver a tape to Sherlock explaining her reasons for leaving and that she hopes to return soon.

Sophie betrays her and destroys the tape thinking that Sherlock would just break her sister's heart again and her protection of Suzanne is obviously her top priority.

Suzanne leaves England with Sherlock's scarf, hoping that this would prove to Sherlock that she is still alive. The story closes with Suzanne promising to Sherlock's memory that she will return one day.

Exclamation Mark: !

Suzanne has been living in Paris for three months now in Sophie's flat, as much progress she has made with her life and forgetting Sherlock she still thinks about him and still obviously loves him. Things don't help when Sherlock doesn't reply to her taped letters; this is because Sherlock still has no idea of her whereabouts or even her existence.

It is soon released that she has a hobby of looking at crimes and cases in Paris to take her mind off of things. The one she is trying to tackle is a phone scandal where innocent random people are being killed by the phones giving its victims harmful micro waves, which destroys both the brain waves and phone.

On Christmas Eve Suzanne is hit by this attack when out of frustration and pain Sherlock has caused her calls him. They barely pass a word to each other (Sherlock not gripping the caller's identity) before Sophie's flat and her phone is destroyed by the phone waves.

Suzanne awakens in hospital where a shaken and devastated Sophie by her bed side. Suzanne thinks someone is trying to kill her and in her irrational state of mind reveals her attempt of calling Sherlock to Sophie, Sophie of course reacts badly and forbids Suzanne to try to make contact with Sherlock. Suzanne is confused and suspicious about Sophie's reaction but soon puts it out of her mind.

They move into a new flat the following day (scrounging off an old flame of Sophie's), Suzanne quickly makes an exit to continue with her investigations.

She goes to a clinic to examine a victim of the phone scandal; she befriends and manipulates a new and inquisitive scientist named Amy who leaks her information to the phone scandal. This leads her to a carnival in the middle of France. She wonders around before a peculiar fortune teller impresses her by talking of Sherlock, the fortune teller indicates her to Jim Moriarty, Suzanne is sceptical about Moriarty's danger until the fortune teller gives her the head of Amy, shocking Suzanne enough to run away.

When she returns to the flat, Sophie shows she has found and fallen for their next door neighbour Jim. This is Jim Moriarty who Suzanne looks upon with fright and awe.

A couple of days have passed, it is now New Year's Eve and Jim has moved in with the two women. Suzanne tries another desperate attempt to contact Sherlock with a taped message, Jim over hears her and threatens her to stay away from Sherlock. Suzanne now convinced that Jim is a dangerous man and tries to convince Sophie of it. Sophie though blinded by her lust for Jim accuses Suzanne of being jealous and leaves with Jim in tow to go to London.

Suzanne loses her rational thinking and immediately goes on the next night train to London to find Sophie, Jim and Sherlock. She makes it to London on New Year night, but Jim Moriarty is waiting for her. The chapter ends with Suzanne trying to run away from Moriarty but ultimately gets an injection shot of a sleeping drug. Suzanne collapses and the last thing she hears is Moriarty and a woman she has never heard before laughing at her.

We catch up with Sherlock and John in a friendship crisis, John asked Sarah to marry him (she said yes), but when he asks Sherlock to be his best man, Sherlock is sceptical about John getting married offending John saying that the marriage would only last three months at the most. Mrs Hudson interrupts their argument by saying a lady has come to visit.

The visitor is Sophie telling them both that Suzanne is alive (by mistake) and has been missing for several weeks. She immediately regrets her words and this totally turns Sherlock's world upside down.

Sherlock begins to investigate the phone scandal which has now gone to London, refusing to admit to anyone that he sees the connection to the case to Suzanne. He meets the head detective Irene Adler who reveals she is just as intelligent as Sherlock. Even when Sherlock gives her the cold shoulder she instead thrives on it and responds to it by flirting.

Irene soon tracks him down to 221B Baker street they continue to deduct each other's character and Sherlock begins to slowly lust over Irene. During this time he keeps getting phone calls and texts from his brother Mycroft Holmes which he refuses to acknowledge. They manage to track down a suitcase at the scene of an attack of the phone murder, which they believe to be Moriarty's. Before they can open it Mycroft is reported to be hit by the phone attack and is in critical condition at the hospital.

While by Mycroft's hospital bed John confronts Sherlock about Irene which the other shakes off. John keeps at Sherlock until Sherlock can't take it anymore and throws the laptop at the wall, his emotions running through him to boiling point. Irene intervenes so she and Sherlock can fix the damaged lap top.

Back at 221B Baker street Irene and Sherlock flirt with each other, Sherlock insists he no longer needs Irene but she refuses to take no for an answer. Their flirting leads to Irene kissing Sherlock first on the cheek and then on the mouth. Sherlock still in flirting mode kisses her back.

The chapter ends with Irene revealing her true loyalties by going into a mysterious place and talking to Suzanne a prisoner of Moriarty.

The next chapter describes Suzanne's painful life stuck in a room forced to make bombs for Moriarty. She is treated appallingly by Irene, Moriarty and her 'caretaker' Packham. She manages to escape through tunnelling under the base and runs to London, helped by Mycroft, while staying with him he is attacked by Packham and Moriarty's men and wounded. She doesn't make it further just far enough to see Sherlock and Irene kissing. The chapter ends with her getting recaptured.

Sherlock continues his investigation with Irene, but he with the help with security cameras find out that Moriarty AND Irene have been behind kidnapping Suzanne he confronts Irene about it. Irene reveals to him that she hates Suzanne because of her part in arresting Wayne Miles (from Question Mark) and putting him on death row. She reveals that Suzanne is in 221B Baker Street.

Sherlock runs back to 221B Baker Street just as Mycroft and Suzanne wakes up and 221B Baker Street explodes.

Sherlock runs back and despite John's restraints he runs into the burning building to find Suzanne. She and him reunite and have a moment, when Moriarty sets them a challenge to escape the building in 20 seconds. They manage this by using a rope Sherlock used for an experiment to swing from one building to the next just in the nick of time. Suzanne is weakened and loses consciousness as the chapter ends.

In the epilogue Suzanne finds out she has to go on trial for her crimes of Question Mark, e.g. faking her own death, Sherlock tells her that he doesn't need Suzanne for she would slow him down and Irene is ten times the investigator she can ever be. But he confesses to her that he does want her and is willing to try to love her and take care of her. Suzanne accepts him and tells him she does love him too.

The story ends with Packham breaking out of jail a criminal which is the start of something terrible…

~::~

I hope this clears things up for new readers and reminds my old. Please stick with this and keep reading. This isn't crucial for those who cannot be bothered but it will make the plot slightly more logical!

Thank you again! AND HERE IT GOES!


	2. Wednesday

B|e|t|w|e|e|n T|h|e L|i|n|e|s

Chapter One: Wednesday

*6:00am, John Watson, above the A205 motorway*

"You put too much faith in your companion, Mr Watson. He has abandoned you."

"Don't be too certain Hannibal." John muttered through gritted teeth as his ropes that bound him to the table seemed to tighten with every breath.

"Then you are a fool John Watson. I will enjoy feasting on your corpse" the man with the black eyes smirked, before raising his dagger.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

John's head fell back on the wooden table with relief. Sherlock had finally arrived.

Hannibal the Cannibal was motionless for a second, before throwing his dagger away and running his toothy grin still shining through.

"Get him Sherlock! He's getting away!" John shouted.

Sherlock untied John Watson before going the opposite way.

"Hey!" John shouted, "he went that way!"

"I'll cut him off you'll run him down!" Sherlock shouted over his shoulder.

John nodded already breathless running up the stair case, following the sounds of the footsteps in the distance. He put on speed his army training coming into practice as he soon ran up to Hannibal the Cannibal. He had failed to remember this man was deadly.

Hannibal smelt him in a second, turning slowly, suddenly motionless. John reached into his pocket to get his gun. Where was it? He felt the hole in his pocket, oh yes that's what he forgot, he meant to have his coat re-stitched, he forgot about Sherlock's plan, instead running away in the direction he had come, in an effort to get the cannibal close enough to the motorway that lay underneath them.

Hannibal the Cannibal found out his plan in a Nano second, he swiftly grabbed John by the neck lifting him up above his head smiling.

John looked down at the traffic underneath him. He didn't think it would end like this. _Please God don't let me die_ he thought for the second time in his life.

Bang!

Went the shot of John Watson's gun coming from the distance.

Hannibal the Cannibal stiffened before falling down in a bloody heap.

Sherlock Holmes strode out of the shadows with a smoking gun. "Most uncivilised" he muttered before throwing it away to John.

John had fallen onto the floor when he suddenly realised he was close to the psycho's body, quickly leapt up.

Sherlock looked at the sight his hands suddenly deep in his pockets. He snapped his lips before turning around towards the exit.

"You can take care of this? Can't you John?" he asked not turning around.

"What? Where will you be?"

"It's Wednesday isn't it John?" Sherlock smirked at him before turning around and heading towards the exit.

John breathed in and out loudly, he looked at the dead body of the cannibal and then at the disappearing figure of Sherlock.

"Let's all go nuts!" he shouted after the detective.

~::~

*8:30am, Suzanne Miles, 'Blue Room'*

"You have been through a lot Suzanne. Two months isn't a long time, post-traumatic stress disorder, is a symptom that is common among people who have been through a dangerous and disturbing event. It can involve hallucination, fainting, anxieties, agitations, as well as: nightmares. You have so far shown a number of these already which make us…wary of your mental state. But tell us what happened to you and you shall feel better. Your brain is trying to flush out all unwanted memories."

Suzanne Miles was looking up at the ceiling while listening to one of the Clinic's Therapist. Her position teased out to anyone watching her that she was listening and concentrating on this woman. But she was doing neither, her blindness made it look as if she was staring concentrating, but really she was just staring, and her position she had enacted thousands of times to unknown chemists or teachers when really she was bored out her skull. She was now. How many times this week had she had the _exact _conversation.

"Your stay at the Clinic is only temporary but we are here to help you. We can only place you back into society when we can be sure of your safety and the rest of societies." The woman sighed before flipping some sheets of her clip board to the back. "You mentioned a few weeks ago that this…Moriarty?…trapped you in a room…Could you verify what happened to you, while you were staying there?"

Suzanne sighed, and puffed her breath. She didn't like where this was going.

"Suzanne. The courts don't take kindly to the truth being kept away. Listen-"

Suzanne stood up from the couch and began to walk to the door.

"Miss Miles! We are not done!" snapped the therapist standing with her clipboard thrown to the floor.

"I'm late" Miss Miles snapped before opening the door and slamming it behind her.

~::~

*8:35am, Sherlock Holmes, Room 108C*

"You're late" Sherlock said as he sat at her table in the middle of her room.

Suzanne put a hand to her chest momentarily jumped at the suddenness of his voice but soon relaxed. She smirked and walked around her hospital room. It was a very small affair. The room had one small single bed in the corner, a netted window on the next wall and a small round bone white table with two chairs either side.

"I thought you weren't coming" she shrugged, throwing her stick on the bed turned to him and sat opposite him. "You didn't come last week."

"I was busy. There was another break out in London Prison: Hannibal the Cannibal, I didn't have the time."

Suzanne rolled her grey eyes but decided now was certainly not the time. It was unwise to expect so much of Sherlock; she had learnt very quickly that if she didn't put her hopes too high for him then she would never be disappointed. He came on Wednesday whenever he felt like it and if he didn't he wouldn't be tied to expectations.

In the first few weeks after she had been taken to the clinic it had been awful, she was under quarantine in case she caught anything or infected anyone else. She hadn't taken too kindly to being locked up again, she had lost more weight, her hallucinations got worse and she had to sit on the other side of glass whenever she wanted to talk to her visitors. Not surprisingly Sherlock had only visited her there once. It had been terrible:

She hadn't even tried to converse with him, she merely sat there almost drooping off of her chair, while Sherlock sat on the other side of the glass looking awkward. It didn't help that the nurses were watching them both in case Sherlock or Suzanne tried to smuggle anything into the clinic, or Sherlock turned snappish at her. He had sat there for ten minutes not saying anything before pushing away from the window and walking away. She was sure he had not looked back.

She was getting better though. She had gained weight: too much weight, Sherlock often walked in quietly when she thought he wouldn't turn up and he often saw her pulling at her excess skin around her waist sighing a little. Her hair was now cut shorter to her shoulder blades unlike last year when it reached the small of her back. She'd even take the odd pill here and there now she had gained more confidence, instead in the past two months when it had to be put in a glass of water or crushed into her food.

Their relationship hadn't taken the next level so to speak. Sherlock knew that Suzanne knew his feelings for her so he never really told her what she meant to him.

He was affectionate to her though.

Anyone who knew Sherlock Holmes very well would see the signs he cared, he told her what cases he was taking on, he would never complain that she was stupid or that she bored him, and every now and then he'd let his guard down and smile at her with affection in his eyes.

Anyone else would not have noticed, he was sometimes vile the way he treated her: messing her about with his promises of visiting her next week but never turning up, never taking the time to ask after her to the clinic's staff; or troubling himself with the nightmares, foul moods, or fainting spells that she sometimes got.

She could read him though, like a book at times and knew that he had cared for her then and still did, and she understood. Sherlock wasn't a master of relationships and desired the listener over the talker and the questioner. He probably preferred that she was locked up, while he had totally control over when he saw her and for how long, instead of her freely seeing_ him_ whenever_ she_ wanted and interrupting his work.

Sherlock and Suzanne often played chess to pass the time and tease out any conversation between each other. Suzanne herself had never learned but Sherlock had been coaxed to teach her. It wasn't easy for her to play being blind, but she had engraved an X on all the white pieces which helped enormously and the board had holes in the squares so the pieces had to be slotted into. Sherlock himself was a master player usually deducting whatever move she would make and end up being five steps ahead of her. Once he'd beaten her in two moves.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, her hands on the board, another cupping her mouth a small frown building on her face; Sherlock sitting coolly watching her body and hands.

"How's Sarah's sofa" Suzanne smirked as she pushed her bishop across taking a small pawn.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. Since 221B Baker Street was in ruins after Moriarty had blown it up two months ago, he and John had had to move in with Sarah. John wasn't exactly thrilled with this revelation, he tried to persuade Sherlock to stay in Mycroft's mansion for a couple of weeks instead, but Sherlock would not hear of it. He'd rather sleep in Sarah's apartment, while she screamed at him for shooting at her walls and poisoning her dog, than stoop so low as to ask his brother for help. The very idea!

"Fine" he said rolling his eyes at the memory of it. "Check mate" he said taking her king with his castle.

Suzanne blinked sighed holding her hand out for the piece to start the game again. She put her pieces back into the places while Sherlock mirrored her. "A lot of murders of late" she observed as she pushed her knight over one of his pawns.

"Yes, wonderful isn't it" Sherlock said his mind on the game.

Suzanne rolled her eyes, she often gawked at Sherlock's nature to misread and misinterpret her true meaning, "you could still have visited me" she said her fingers slowly pushing her castle upwards the board.

"As I have already informed you, my dear, I was busy my mind was on other things I wouldn't have borne it well if I had to talk to anyone that day, I would have been techy and anti-social: more than usual anyway."

"How considerate of you" Suzanne muttered an edge to her voice which Sherlock missed through the game.

They didn't always play chess…they started with checkers and cluedo, but it was still tense. Suzanne had believed Sherlock had cheated (Sherlock often did) and after one day of flash backs and a fainting spell, she had confronted him. He of course denied and confirmed it; she had been so frustrated she threw the board across the room.

Sherlock had not visited her for three weeks, she was sure he would never visit her again and she grew more depressed. But he did come on the fourth week. Suzanne tried very hard after that apologising and offering chess after which, preferably because Suzanne was a poor player so Sherlock didn't have to cheat, the set-up of the game and her thoroughness made it so Sherlock _couldn't _cheat, but most importantly, Suzanne wanted to put the embarrassment behind her. She wanted him to too.

Suzanne decided to change the subject fast encase she said anything she regret, "how many have broken out of prison?"

"Hmmm?"

"How many prisoners have broken out of prison?"

"Oh…Around fifteen or twenty that I know of. Nothing I can't handle."

Suzanne blinked "In one month? That's more than the last two years' worth." She muttered taking his queen.

"Is it? Check mate."

Suzanne rolled her eyes. She tried again. "Yes, but _why_ Sherlock?"

"I don't know something to do with the climate, maybe the economy…Or television."

He sighed when he saw her confused expression. She knew when it came to speaking his thoughts aloud she was a big disappointment in that department. She knew he'd probably sacrifice his left eye for her to understand and deduce his theories with him and not just blink at him stupidly. There was one woman who did that with him.

Ms Irene Adler.

He probably regretted his choice in choosing the older, slower, less talented, uglier, dumber and _blinder_, one of the pair. Irene had been his equal in every way. The only thing going for Miss Miles was her personality; she wasn't as colourful in careers as Ms Adler. Which was probably a good thing; she was the stone weighing the big balloon of Sherlock down. But did he see that as a good thing?

She rubbed her tired and grey eyes. Why was she bothered? She always thought like this when Sherlock visited her, it often tired her out. She couldn't live with him and she couldn't live without him.

"I ran out of therapy today" she said while pushing her last piece across the board.

"You-" Sherlock asked raising an eyebrow.

Suzanne nodded her head, slightly smiling slightly frowning. "She was asking too many questions."

"You've got to keep trying."

"Careful Sherlock, it might sound like you care."

She so wanted him to answer something like "I do care" or "you know I do" but he did not.

Instead he slowly stood and walked to the door.

"See you next week." She finished before pulling the chess pieces into a card board box.

"Maybe."

"Please."

"Maybe."

Sherlock walked out of the room, without another word.

She was left alone. Again. From one cage to another.

Suzanne sat there for a while before throwing the box across the room, making all the little pieces fly everywhere. She pinched the bridge of her nose her hands shaking which only added to her frustration.

~::~

*2:45pm, Sherlock Holmes, Police Questioning room 6*

A light shone on Hannibal the Cannibal who sat in the middle of the room. He was heavily sedated and his huge ape like hands were tied behind his back, his black shark like eyes were half open but he watched the shoes in front of him with a sharp concentration. His teeth were out because he was smiling. Why was he smiling? Best not to ask.

Sherlock walked around Hannibal the Cannibal, the two regarded each other silently both respectful to the others power.

"So, Trevor McDonald-"

"My name is Hannibal the Cannibal" the man whispered his tone demanding but not chillingly soothing.

Sherlock grimaced but decided to give the discussion a chance. "Very well. Hannibal the Cannibal. I have a couple of questions I wish to ask you."

Hannibal the Cannibal laughed bearing his skull white teeth together before nodding his head for Sherlock to continue.

"How did you escape?" Sherlock asked drawing up a chair to sit in front of the man.

"Walking out the front door."

"Come, come. You were in a highly securitised cell, you couldn't even look to the left without the wardens knowing it. So. How did you escape?

"I told you. By walking out the front door" Hannibal the Cannibal's small eyes were watching Sherlock intently, if the man moved an inch or two closer…Hannibal would at last taste human flesh again.

Sherlock did not let on that he knew this. He straightened his back before saying "I believe a man called…Moriarty? Helped you."

Hannibal blinked at Sherlock, for a second he saw Sherlock less as dinner and more as a threat. "Look here buddy. I don't like you and I know you don't like me. But let me give you one piece of advice. In fact I'll give you two."

Sherlock resisted the urge to lean forward to listen to the mad man's advice.

"My first piece of advice is that you shouldn't mention Mr. Moriarty's name around me. I want to keep my head. My second piece of advice is to get some good cover. You're about to walk into a mess of danger."

Sherlock smiled "so it was Moriarty who helped you break out of your cell." So that's how Hannibal the Cannibal did it. Jim Moriarty helped him, Moriarty had agents everywhere it would have been easy for him to 'move' Hannibal the Cannibal out of his cell. But what did Moriarty want with this man? True he was deadly but he certainly wasn't Moriarty's style to get the obvious ones out of jail…Unless…

Sherlock ducked in the nick of time when the gun shot out.

When he raised his head he saw it was not a bullet which had fired from the barrel…But an arrow, it stuck in his forehead grotesquely. A small notice was pieced through the end. Sherlock pulled it from the arrow not taking a second glance at the dead psycho.

Lestrade and John ran out from behind the screen of the questioning room to run to the detective and the dead man. Sherlock turned his back, on the dead body and the two men, to read the message:

**ONE DAY MORE. SEXY.**

**JM.**

~::~

Review me!


	3. Thursday

B|e|t|w|e|e|n t|h|e L|i|n|e|s

Chapter Two: Thursday

*09:45am, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, Number 3 Gloucester road*

"You've got to stop treating her like this" John spoke over the breakfast table.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked looking up from his paper, "who do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"You know who" John snapped frustrated "Suzanne Miles. I thought you liked her."

"I do."

"Then why don't you go see her more often. The woman's in a mental hospital for heaven's sake!"

"John, I'm working today, besides she can make it for a week or so not seeing me. We're not joined at the hip."

"Whatever happened to you two months ago, walking in here with a dreamy smile on your face and a spring in your step when you and her…Got together with lack of a better term."

"John, unlike you and Sarah, I refuse to hold a simple love affair that will only last for two years tops."

"Hey!"

"I care for her yes, but I refuse to take my eye away from my work. She knew that and the only person who has a problem with it is you."

"Taking advantage of a blind, mentally unstable, woman. Now we are sinking a little lower."

"You will never understand John."

"And I highly doubt she will too."

"We have an arrangement."

"That suits you."

"I'm going to bed."

"Oh yes, my mistake, you've had a hard day rolling up cigarettes and buttering toast" John called after Sherlock as he went into the front room to sleep on John's sofa.

Sarah shot John a look from across the table. Sherlock was successfully driving her nuts and she wanted John to convince him into leaving to live with Mycroft. John looked at her pleadingly; he didn't want to give Sherlock the satisfaction of hearing him and Sarah argue. She raised her eyebrows and motioned him to pick up his phone.

John sighed grabbing the phone and clicked on the button:

MYCROFT

He then texted:

HEY IT'S ME.

COME AND GIVE THAT TALK TO SHERLOCK.

HE NEEDS IT.

JOHN.

~::~

*10:18am, Suzanne, 'Green Hall' conference room*

Suzanne waited outside the room, Sherlock was late. She had texted him all the details as a reminder. She had hoped against hope that Sherlock would show up. She kept reminding him every day they saw each other. She refused to believe that he had forgotten.

Her therapist walked out of the hall. The silence indicated to her that she looked around for Suzanne's quote on quote: "family member or friend to give support and living arrangements for her". She then snapped her lips before saying:

"Is Mr…" she looked through her notes "…Holmes, coming today?"

Suzanne looked around hoping Sherlock could come running into the corridor out of breath, full of apologise and excuses for being late. After a minute she slowly stood and brushed herself down before following her therapist into the 'Green Hall'.

She sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair, intended for a child; her feet rubbed the nylon carpet uncomfortably which was the same throughout the hospital which always confused her sandal wearing feet. She gulped feeling more and more anxious about the meeting. Why hadn't she asked John or Sarah to come with her?

"Suzanne. How do you think your treatment is coming along?" Three men sat at a desk before her with her therapist sitting on a plastic chair beside them. Suzanne sat in front of them feeling more and more smaller. She wished Sherlock was sitting next to her giving her some moral support.

"Well, my treatment is intense certainly, but I know I am definitely improving. And my friends on the other side are willing to house and take care of me."

The three men were not interested in her opinion, they turned to her therapist. She cleared her throat, "well, Suzanne Miles is one of my more 'interesting' cases."

'Interesting' obviously meant 'complicated' and 'difficult'.

She cleared her throat again. She was trying to ignore the fact she was turning the knife in Suzanne's wound. "And I've personally found it difficult to communicate my worries to Suzanne and work with her as a whole. Out of the fifty sessions I've had with her, she has only attended four through to the end. I feel, Suzanne and myself, are still trying to find a common ground in communication and expression to help deal with her troubles both mentally and physically."

What does that even mean? Suzanne asked herself frustrated. She wanted to walk out of this too, but she knew she had to sit this one through or else she might never leave the institute.

The three men murmured to each other and wrote something down. They looked up at Suzanne Miles, asking: "I take it the person…" they looked through their notes, "…Mr Holmes? Is not present to this meeting."

"No." She had never felt so embarrassed.

"I've yet to meet this…Mr Holmes" The therapist added in. She really was wreaking revenge here.

"His colleges, John Watson and Sarah Watson" she decided it was not a good time to give these conservative board members the information that John and Sarah had yet to marry, "they have told me, their willing to help." She was half pleading half begging now.

One of the board members held up his hand and hushed her down, "miss Miles, it has come to my attention through this interview, that you will not be in a stable frame of mind nor housing to be let into society so soon. Your case is yet to be evaluated and if what your therapist says is true, you still have a long road of recovery to do, before myself and my colleges are satisfied you have improved enough to be realised into society."

Suzanne slowly looked down. Why was she disappointed? She knew this would happen. Slowly she stood and walked out of the room, she had never felt so angry, embarrassed or frustrated in her life.

~::~

*11:04am, Mycroft Holmes, Number 3 Gloucester road*

Mycroft knocked and waited for John to open the door, when the latter did, he walked in and hung his umbrella and coat onto Mr Watson's outstretched arms before commenting that he was sorry he was late.

"You were late?" the simple minded Gorilla asked.

"Why yes, Mr Watson, we negotiated for eleven o'clock this morning, my driver Mr Phillip is becoming so frightfully slow. I must remind my lawyer to fire him one of these days."

"Why would you ask your lawyer to-Never mind! Mycroft, I called you here because-"

"I know, I know, our little chat a couple of weeks ago at your stag do, was it? I told you if you ever needed to intervene in Sherlock's behaviour to call me, so here we are." Mycroft obviously had a busy schedule, "I've got a lot of business to take care of today."

They walked into the front room where Sherlock (still in his pyjamas and dressing gown) lay on his 'bed' the front sofa.

"Brother" Mycroft greeted holding his arms out.

Sherlock looked at him up and down before sniffing and turning over facing away from the pair.

~::~

*11:08am, Suzanne Miles, 'Red Dorm' corridor*

Suzanne walked fuming with anger as she half walked half skidded down the nylon corridor. She will _kill_ Sherlock when she got her hands on his scrawny neck. She walked over nurses and patients all-knowing to keep out of her way.

She heard someone call over to her, which she ignored, it was only when she was grabbed did she stop in her stride.

"Miss Miles" a nurse gasped out of breath, "I have to inform you that you have a visitor."

"It isn't a Holmes by any chance?"

"Well it is-"

Suzanne turned and strode to her room. When she got her hands on Sherlock…

She opened the door and walked in, ignoring the smell of perfume and expensive clothes and hair make up. Only when a woman's voice spoke did these factors hit her:

"Violet Holmes" the woman held her hand out, which Suzanne of course could not take, "I take it you are…Suzanne Miles" why did she speak her name as if it were a dirty swear word? "I take it you and my youngest son are…"

Uh oh.

Uh oh indeed…

~::~

*11:49am, Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes, Number 3 Gloucester road*

Sherlock sat up as Mycroft sat opposite him, "I hear from John you have been behaving quite vulgarly brother."

"Not as much as usual Mycroft."

"You know you've really got to…Straighten up" Mycroft chose his words carefully but Sherlock could see the cracks in his neutrality. "I mean, you've really done it this time."

"Charming."

"I'm serious brother."

"So am I brother dear."

"I mean, starting a relationship with a woman like Miss Miles was bad enough but-"

"What's so bad about it?" Sherlock asked, his tone daring Mycroft to argue with him.

"Well, it's not ideal to say the least."

John blinked at the two men, he saw Sarah beckon for him, which made him take a hasty retreat.

"What's not ideal about it?" Sherlock asked leaning forward, if anything the situation was nothing but ideal for him.

"Well, the woman has no social background, parents, brothers, sisters, cousins, the lot of them have had some run in with the law…Including her. Blowing up 221B Baker Street ring a bell?"

"That wasn't her fault."

"Look at you Sherlock, if there was one person in the world I'd never thought would settle down, it's you. And it's domesticated you."

"It has done no such thing."

"Come, come, you know as well as I, that a relationship with anyone will completely change you. And you need to think, as well as I had to, that this could be the end of your bachelor life. You must make a choice."

"You're wrong."

"Sherlock Holmes" Mycroft snapped "you've got to face the facts. Frankly I can't comprehend what you see in her-"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat; he waited to see what Mycroft was going to see next.

Mycroft watched Sherlock closely before, "that's of maybe, but I feel you do not appreciate the change that is to befall on your character. And you must make your decision quickly."

"You want me to give her up."

"You must let this go, maybe at one time in your life you might have wanted this but now…"

"Who are you to know what I want and what I don't want?"

"Because I am your brother. And I know the decision you are going to make is not easy. But the world is going to change soon. And you need all your senses intact. You don't need them controlled by some female."

"What do you mean the world is going to change?"

"Nothing. Ignore me. Sherlock, you must make a choice."

"I don't need to make any choice."

Mycroft sighed; he knew his brother was going to be difficult. He needed to take matters into his own hands; he picked up his phone out of his pocket and searched through his messages. "I had your text messages hacked Sherlock, and I found some very interesting messages from Miss Miles" he raised the phone and showed it to Sherlock:

**Sherlock,**

**My meeting today is at 10:00 sharp, don't forget to come.**

**Love you **

**S.M.**

Sherlock covered his eyes. He had forgotten her meeting; he looked at his watch and cringed, he was nearly two hours late, slowly he stood up and walked to John's room where his suitcase of clothes sat.

"I wouldn't go just yet Sherlock."

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked turning slowly.

Mycroft shrugged.

"MYCROFT!" Sherlock yelled at him.

Mycroft sighed like this was all beneath him before saying: "I told mummy."

"What?"

"I told mummy about her, she wasn't thrilled as you can imagine when I told her all the details. She's gone today to meet her. I'd give her some time."

Sherlock looked at Mycroft up and down; he will deal with him later. He stood and walked to John's room to change. He only hoped Suzanne didn't take all of what his mother said to heart.

~::~

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	4. Still Thursday

B|e|t|w|e|e|n t|h|e L|i|n|e|s

Chapter Three: Thursday

*11:11am, Suzanne Miles, 'Blue Room'*

Suzanne blinked at the woman in front of her, her nostrils burned because of the woman's perfume; it was so strong that she was sure she would be smelling roses until Christmas next year. She dared not chuckle at this; by the density of the mood she was sure that this woman was not here to give her some form of a prize and a salute for bravery.

Experience told her to keep her mouth shut.

Nervousness made her question that rule.

At last the woman spoke:

"Miss…Miles was it?"

Suzanne could practically hear the woman think: 'Miles? What a common name.'

"Miss Miles, I understand you and my son have engaged in a form of fornication."

Suzanne blushed, "I think you've got the wrong end of the stick, Sherlock and I haven't…We're not…We never" how did you tell someone you have not had sex with their son. Before she could fully get her point across the woman started talking again.

"My sources tell me, that you happened to destroy his living accommodation and I understand you are here because of an unfortunate run in with a mad man?"

"Yes" what could she say? It was all true. She might not have meant to have blown up 221B Baker Street, but she defiantly had been captured by Moriarty and held hostage by him for six months…

"Very well, and now you want to trap my son in your little web of lies to get at his money, no?"

"What? No!"

"Oh come, come, Miss Miles, your family record clearly shows that your family has clearly struggled with money and debt. Your mother was unemployed and had children to scrounge off of the state, you have been taken into care thrice but then returned to her, your sisters are prostitutes, your brothers are steeped in crime. Not to mention your eldest, who was at the head of a number of serial murders last year, no? You have no clear qualifications to represent you, no degrees, no form of education what so ever. You are a poor candidate for my son, it's almost funny to think that you and him…" She let out a small laugh which sounded so refined and sophisticated it didn't sound real. "Why would he go with you? Come now give me the reason. Look at you, what have you got to offer him, which I can't find another girl which can give double than that. More refined girls, girls with culture, girls with an education are things you can only _dream _of achieving. The very idea that a woman with _your _handicap to be with _my _son."

There it was the core of the argument. She did not want Sherlock to be turned into a nursemaid for her. This was understandable…Even if she was going about it in the most hurtful and demeaning way.

"Please, Mrs Holmes, you must understand-"

"I take it you have had numerous partners?"

"Well…"

"It gets worse and worse!"

"Most of them I didn't give my consent to!"

"Oh, come, come, I know people like you. You're no better than a prostitute! You use men and take everything they've got before chucking them away!"

Suzanne could feel herself shaking with anger, how _dare _she! She was so close to reaching over and pummelling this woman, she needed to grip her chair.

"And now you want to do that to my son! Admit it! Well you are not going to get one penny out of me, because you forget I'm the one in this family that holds all of the money, and if you think I'm going to leave anything to you, then you'll be very much mistaken. And even if you think I'm joking if you dare to stay with Sherlock after our little 'talk' I will make sure personally that he will be written out of my will and out of the family completely."

"That'll suit me very much thank you" Suzanne muttered through gritted teeth.

"Don't joke! This is a serious matter!"

"Whose joking?" She muttered, if she never saw this woman again it would be a million years too soon.

"Why you-" she stopped and seemed to compose herself and try a new way around the problem. "I can deal with people like you." She sorted through her immaculate pockets before drawing something out.

Suzanne too tried to compose herself (without much success).

"I can give you five thousand pounds to leave my son alone."

Suzanne gave her a double take "excuse me?" she didn't know whether to laugh, be insulted or turn the table over.

"I can give you as much money as you want to get out of his life."

"Get out."

"I've got three thousand on me today; tomorrow I can come with the rest."

"Get out."

"I can make it mor-"

"I SAID GET OUT!" She stood up from her chair, her fists were clenched and her body shook making it feel like she was floating. She was so angry she could barely speak.

Violet Holmes was silent for a while before clearing her throat, she seemed quite taken aback from this outburst.

"You must consider" she didn't sound as confident as before but she still tried to keep at the head of the hierarchy.

"GET OUT OR I WILL SEND FOR A NURSE!" she shouted, suddenly doubling up as a sudden pain shot through her chest making her sit back down at her table. She could feel her heart beat in her chest and her hands shook uncontrollably as she began to lose control of her body again.

A then nurse ran in asking what all the commotion was.

~::~

*11: 46pm, Sherlock Holmes, 'Blue Corridor'*

Sherlock walked through the corridor hurrying to her room; he had passed a nurse who nearly collided with him.

"Sir?" she called after him, "sir, who are you visiting?" she asked following.

"Miss Miles, I haven't an appointment, but I think you'll agree it's an emergency" he barely turned around to see her before he walked into Suzanne's room.

He walked in to see Suzanne and a woman he'd never seen before. Not that there was any question who she was, she wore a cream coloured skirt and cardigan, a gold chain and a pair of half-moon glasses. So obviously married because she had given up on her appearance or fashion as a whole, but Sherlock knew from experience that women seldom did that on their own accord without a man in the picture. Her wedding ring was a conservative and small affair, so she had married young or married a poor man, but judging by this woman's age she is too young (despite her appearance) to be married to poor. How did he come to that conclusion? Well despite the fact that this woman had given up on life as a whole, she still wore an expensive chain around her neck, was it from him? Unlikely for she hadn't taken care of her wedding ring and if he had given that to her she probably wouldn't have worn it. So this woman has expensive tastes, which usually cultivates from the upper crust in life, so her position is good. Doctor? No she hadn't the shoes or the nails for being a doctor. Therapist, more likely, for she held herself in an all knowing way, and her hair had the tell-tale signs of split ends of the such he had only seen for a therapist. Conclusion: this woman is a therapist unhappily married to a husband who may or may not be having an affair, and she is currently Suzanne's personal therapist at the hospital.

Sherlock smirked. He still had it.

The therapist had looked up at Sherlock with a questionable look. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock held out his hand for her to take "how's the husband?" he asked casually.

"Behave" Suzanne shot at him. She had calmed down, at first she had feared she was having a heart attack when Violet Holmes had upset her so, but instead her stress disorder had acted out and she had a violent reaction and her anxieties had gotten the better of her.

"So you are the famous Sherlock Holmes" the therapist stood and shook Sherlock's hand, "you missed her meeting today which discussed her future. Here I thought you were made up." She looked at Suzanne when she said this.

"I need to talk to Sherlock alone" Suzanne said her voice dry and unlike her usual voice.

Her therapist looked at her before walking out of the room. Sherlock couldn't help hoping that she would stay.

~::~

They sat looking at each other. Sherlock didn't dare speak in case he said the wrong thing to her. She seemed to be thinking of her words very carefully.

"I had a visit from your mother today."

"I know."

"She didn't like me."

"I feared as much."

She said nothing, he cleared his throat hoping to raise her spirits a little: "if you apologised and we met formally, I'm sure she will-"

"I don't want to!" she snapped at Sherlock "why should I apologise to her? If she feels I'm not good enough for you then let it be." She covered her eyes as her outburst showed too much to Sherlock what she must be thinking inside.

Sherlock bowed his head before asking: "what did she say to you?"

She bit her lips holding back the tears, "she said…She said I was a prostitute, I was tricking you to get to your money, and that she found it funny that I would ever think I was good enough for you."

Sherlock looked away sighing, feelings were not easy for him, "she should not have said that to you" he reached over and gently squeezed her hands.

Tears fell down her face, "but their true, they're all right, it's true." She covered her eyes as she cried all of her frustration and wretchedness into her sleeves.

Sherlock looked at her his eyes softening for a second, he slowly reached over and put his arm around her in an act to try and comfort her. They stayed there for a long time almost awkwardly sitting side by side.

Suzanne at last spoke, "why didn't you come today, I sent you so many reminders."

"I'm sorry, please forgive me" it would sound stupid and childish for him to blame it all on Mycroft, he may have stopped the reminders but he forgot all by himself.

She covered her eyes, before pushing Sherlock gently away from him, "this has got to stop Sherlock."

"What has?"

"All of this! I'm not well, no matter what you say, I can't physically take any more of this" she looked up at him, her eyes chillingly knowing where his were, "you don't know a thing about what happened to me with Moriarty, and I don't think I can keep it buried for much longer."

Sherlock stood he did not want to hear any of this.

She stood with him, "we have to talk about this at some point Sherlock, and you deserve the truth."

"No I do not. As far as I'm concerned if you never told me what happened that would serve me quite well" Sherlock snapped through gritted teeth, Suzanne had never heard him so angry with her, he rarely used that tone when he talked to a stubborn Mycroft but never her.

She held her own though, she breathed in before saying (a well-rehearsed speech), "they didn't just hit me Sherlock, well they did beat me and kick me at times, but that wasn't the worst-"

Sherlock made for the door but she gripped his arm.

"Let go" he hissed his words were like bullets which hit her ears but she still refused to let him walk away.

She wanted him to understand, she couldn't keep making out to him that everything was fine when inside it felt like she was drowning. She knew she should let it rest but she feared if she didn't tell him now she never would, and he wouldn't let her. She wanted him to know because then she wouldn't feel like she was living a lie and that they were playing a farce with each other. She had to tell him, she needed to tell him what had happened to her, or else she feared she'd go mad.

"Sherlock…Please, at night sometimes they'd-" she was cut short.

…

She heard it before she felt anything. The harsh sound sounded like a clap of thunder in her ears, she wondered if she was still in her shocked state for she felt like she couldn't feel anything again. Only when her forehead hit the edge of the table was she thrust back into reality. Her back hit the floor which seemed so far away and yet too close to her. Her head hit the floor with a horrible crash. Her right cheek was burning like it had been hit with needles. She groggily sat up and felt her cheek gingerly. She suddenly got it.

Sherlock had slapped her.

She felt warm blood slowly flow down her forehead as it had hit the corner of the table, her eyes filled with tears as she remembered feeling like this through her life and especially when she was held prisoner by Moriarty. She forgot Sherlock had slapped her and she was thrown back to the cold four walled room which she only did when she was having a nightmare or whenever she closed her eyes at night when she was at her worst.

Sherlock stood over her. He had reached over and slapped her. So what if he had? She knew that if she persisted that he would react in that fashion. He was in fight or flight mode, she had backed him into a corner and the only way he could resist was through pushing her away. But he hadn't pushed her. He had slapped her. He felt a knot growing in his stomach when he remembered her falling back and hitting her head on the table, and now she was looking up at him like he was going to keep on hitting her.

Suzanne shakily stood, her mind back on who had hit her, her legs felt too light and too unreal to properly support her making her sway a little. Sherlock reached out to help her. She flinched away glaring at him before muttering: "no, I can do it by myself."

"Suzanne…"

"I don't want to know Sherlock. Please get out."

Sherlock stood his ground trying to think of what he could possibly say to her that would make everything better.

Suzanne looked at him her eyes both angry with the rage he'd dare do that to her, but also filled with tears as to her own weakness. "I said get out Sherlock." She didn't scream and shout. She merely spoke calmly and neutrally.

Sherlock wished she would.

He slowly moved to the door. He opened it. And closed it behind him. He could feel her push her back against it as he did the same on the other side of the door.

A part of him wanted to walk home and never look back.

And the other? The other wanted to walk back into the tiny room and beg for her forgiveness, he would not leave until he knew exactly what he could do to get her trust back.

He stood up straight and walked to the exit.

He didn't look back.

He kept his face carefully expressionless.

But his hands were shaking.

~::~

*12:00am, Sherlock Holmes, London Streets*

He didn't hail a cab.

Maybe he felt he didn't deserve it.

Maybe he wanted to hide in the crowds of people.

He didn't know.

He heard the street around him buzz as the clock sounded the midday chime. He felt something in his pocket and drew it out.

**ONE DAY MORE. SEXY.**

**J.M.**

Sherlock thought about the note. What could it mean? Well it was probably a hoax. It was indeed a day later and nothing had-

"HELLO PEOPLE OF LONDON!"

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks as the voice sounded from above. He looked up to see the big screen at Piccadilly Circus change from advertisement to a face.

And that face was of Moriarty.

Sherlock's heart stopped for a second.

~::~

*12:00am, John Watson, Number 3 Gloucester road*

John watched TV with Sarah against his shoulder, life seemed perfectly simple. They were watching a documentary about Meerkats when the screen flashed blank and then green.

"PEOPLE OF LONDON, BRITAIN, AND I SUPPOSE THE WORLD."

John blinked with Sarah sitting up as Moriarty's face came on the screen.

"I, MORIARTY HAVE TAKEN OVER YOUR TELEVISION NETWORK, YOUR PHONE NETWORK AND YOUR COMPUTER WI-FIS."

John reached into his pocket and took out his phone to text Sherlock, to do anything. His phone turned on but it had a blue screen on it saying the network could not be identified. John looked up at the TV his mouth jutting open.

"I GUESS YOU COULD SAY MY DEMANDS ARE SIMPLE. I HAVE TAKEN OVER WITH THE HELP OF YOUR JAILED MISSFITS, RIGHT NOW LONDONERS IF YOU LOOK OUT YOUR WINDOW YOU'LL SEE-"

Before John could do anything he heard a giant BANG! He ran to the window to see what was happening.

BT Tower was collapsing to the ground with the Gherkin and Canary Wharf following suit. He felt tears come to his eyes as the buildings were totally grounded.

~::~

*12:00am, Suzanne Miles, 'Blue Room'*

Suzanne looked up as the entire building moved with life; people shouted and ran as panic ensued. She walked out of her room against the mob of people and walked over to a radio.

"THAT'S JUST HOW THINGS ARE GOING TO WORK HERE, I'M IN CHARGE NOW. THE NAME IS JIM MORIARTY AND YOU'LL DO WELL TO GIVE ME RESPECT."

Suzanne was not going to wait for that, she ran into her room and hid under her blanket like an infant.

She shook and screamed with the building.

"AND JUST TO FURTHER PROVE, PEOPLE OF LONDON THAT YOU SHOULDN'T REVOLT AGAINST MY RULE:"

An ear splitting BANG! Swarmed around Suzanne she screamed and screamed but she couldn't hear it over the noise.

The building swayed and then fell with a crash that made her feel like she was on a roller-coaster and a tapeline all at once. Dust fell from her room's ceiling as the building moaned and fell. She heard a further crash until silence.

She raised her head, a pain coming from her neck she heard on the street:

"I HAVE JUST 'REMOVED' YOUR FIRE STATIONS, POLICE STATIONS AND YOUR HOSPITALS."

She blinked through the dust before muttering: "what is it with me and explosions?" She then lost consciousness.

~::~

*12:00am, John Watson, Number 3 Gloucester road*

John grabbed Sarah's hand before running for the door.

"I WILL ALSO CONFISCATE ALL KNOWN DOCTORS OUT OF THE AREAS THEY RESIDE IN."

The door burst open as men wear dark blue navy denim uniforms making them look like a swat team. Only these had bright red JMs on their helmets and backs.

John and Sarah raised their hands slowly as the group of men and women shouted at the man and woman to get on the ground.

~::~

*12:00am, Mycroft Holmes, Parliamentary Room Number 5*

Mycroft stared at the screen before him his mouth open. He put his back against the cupboard door his heart in his mouth. He was shaking. He was frightened.

"OH AND I'M TAKING THE LIBERTY OF LIVING IN THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. WHERE WILL THE POLITICANS GO? WELL…THAT WOULD BE TELLING."

Mycroft screamed as the doors opened as Moriarty's recruits came into the room their Taser guns and real guns aimed at Mycroft's head.

He tried to run away but he knew he didn't have long.

~::~

*12:01, Sherlock Holmes, London Streets*

Sherlock looked around as panic and terror swept at the British people, he couldn't believe it. Had Moriarty really…He could barely think it.

His phone vibrated in his coat pocket, he reached into it and pulled it out and pressed the receive button to answer the call.

"Hello?" he asked rather than answered.

"The game is set Sherlock Holmes. Try and defeat me now. Come on I dare you." Moriarty's voice rang out through Sherlock's head, "wait until this evening when everyone is 'taken care of' and then the game can begin."

Sherlock could tell from the corner of his eye that Moriarty's recruits surrounded the people of London into a mass of chaos, like a roundup of cattle.

"Until then run, Mr Holmes."

Sherlock ran. What could he do? He ran through the crowd of people away from the phone he had dropped.

"And then. I promise you." Moriarty smirked still talking into the phone,

"You will dream of a new game. Altogether."

~::~

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